


equal footing

by dinosuns



Series: VLD Bingo [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Apologies, Ballroom Dancing, Belonging, Bonding, Celebrations, Fluff, Formalwear, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Leadership, Loss of Parent(s), Nostalgia, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Vulnerability, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, briefly mentioned!!, implied allurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosuns/pseuds/dinosuns
Summary: “Look, Allura,” a glance around confirms they’re gaining some attention. Really, the last thing Keith wants to do is embarrass himself and Allura. “I… don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to lead.”“If I recall correctly, there was also a time where you had never led Voltron before either,” she responds, ever sharp and capable of talking him down or matching him. Keith’s surprised to find her feet smacking into his first as they move. Maybe, just maybe, she’s a little out of her depth too. “But one thing I have noticed, Keith, is that you adapt remarkably fast. It’s most impressive.”“Not always,” Keith admits with an uneasy breathless laugh.There's a celebration held after saving earth, Allura and Keith dance themselves a little off-course.





	equal footing

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy this, i really LOVED writing this! this is a fill for my VLD Bingo cards I signed up to:
> 
> Prompts (gen): dancing  
> Prompts (keith): belonging 
> 
> this made me smile so much! whilst this is a story exploring keith & allura's dynamic, i'll just point you again to the tag of implied allurance! it's a teenty-tiny bit at the end, but the focus of this story is not romantic.

Many months after the clean up, and people from all across the universe have come to earth to pledge their allegiance, one of the garrison’s former hangars is cleared and repurposed. The decision is unanimous, almost unspoken. Allura, Romelle and Coran take charge in transforming the vacant, dreary space into a ballroom worthy of Altea. Keith isn’t sure where the idea came from exactly, or how it started, but he doesn’t miss the flickers of raw excitement in his team whenever it’s mentioned.

Despite his own reservations and doubts as to whether a party was the best way to spend their time in the aftermath of such a battle, the sheer wonder it brought to their faces stifled him from speaking up. In fact, the entire garrison had become a vibrant dynamic place, a heaviness many hadn’t even realised had been there lifted a fraction. So much had happened, some days the overcast lingered a little too long. It sunk deeper into the lines beneath tired eyes, overstaying its welcome. Voices unexpectedly catch in the air, and threaten to shatter. Composure hangs by a thread waiting to snap, choosing the worst moments to.

Grief hits unexpectedly, but it’s the constant ripples that tear mercilessly through your bones and rattle them. It’s the lingering shadows it paints across the walls, silhouettes in an empty room or a mirage in the desert that haunts you the most.

Sometimes, the best thing to do is throw yourself into a moment or trivial thing. After kerberos, Keith had thrown himself into everything he could. The restlessness that consumed him never betrayed him, it was the rare absence of it that made things too tangible. Sitting still had been dangerous, things began to stew. So he resolved to move, never stop. He fixed the roof of the shack, repaired some of the boards until his hands were sore and calloused. Then once it was done he didn’t waste time to regather a breath or think, he started searching. 

He understands that people need this.

And they’re not doing anything by halves, either. The dress-code is formal, and one particularly enthusiastic tailor from the planet Yuroxion had insisted to make custom pieces for the defenders of the Universe. Allura had reminded Keith it would be rude to decline such an offer, perhaps a prelude to a firm trade negotiation. That’s the part Keith is growing more and more tired of, the diplomacy beginning to lace itself into everything they do.

Glancing in the mirror, Keith frowns. It doesn’t look bad, exactly. It’s just strange. His hair is pushed back off his face in an exposing way, giving his eyes and the littered bruising from his crash landing nowhere to hide. A suit of this kind is not the kind of thing he would choose to wear, but the silky material is surprisingly comfortable. These aren’t suits of armour, they’re suits of business and formality. It’s an entirely new world Keith has never had much interest in. At least Kosmo got roped into it too. The wolf seems equally as unhappy about the bow round his neck.

From the corner of the room Krolia steps forward, adjusting Keith’s shirt collar.

“That’s better,” she says with a warm smile. Patting his shoulder, her eyes soften. There’s a gleam there that’s a touch on the poignant side, has Keith leaning forward to clasp her hand. “If he could see you now… Your father would be very proud.”

They fall into an embrace. Keith isn’t sure how long they stay that way, quietly drinking in the presence of each other. By the time he pulls back, there’s a knock on the door indicating it’s time he made his way down to meet his team.

* * *

The applause as the paladins and MFEs follow Shiro into the reformed hangar is unsettling, the kind of attention and praise Keith isn’t used to nor appreciates. Whilst they fought to save the planet, many others fell for the cause. Homes were destroyed, lives crushed. None of their efforts could prevent this, Keith knows by this point it’s impossible to save everything and everyone.  
  
They’re not the blame, but to take credit in the face of that - even inadvertently - churns his stomach enough to replicate the kind of nausea sailing a turbulent sea brings. At least, so he imagines. Keith hasn’t been on a boat before and he doesn’t have any current plans to change that. Keith keeps his hands by his side, fists clenched in a way he hopes escapes attention.

Once the crowd reverts back to dancing and mingling, Keith quickly finds a space at one of the furthest tables. The wolf stays close, nuzzling into his side. The hangar certainly looks the part, for sure. It’s full of colour and the decorations are a mixture of earth and alien. There are curious floating candles which look like they’re smiling. The more Keith looks, the more he can’t unsee a peculiar face staring back.  
  
It looks happy, illuminating the hangar with the lanterns and other hanging lights. When one candle waltzes over, basking his table in a warm orange glow, he realises he wasn’t wrong. Fortunately, the candles can’t speak or they simply choose not to. Kosmo starts pawing at the candle, tail wagging when he can’t quite catch the thing.

“They’re called Hallimides, from the planet Tufina.”

Momentarily startled, Keith glances up at the intruder. It’s Allura. Honestly, he hadn’t paid much notice to his friends’ outfits earlier, too focused on finding the nearest corner to wedge himself into. Radiant isn’t quite the word for the way Allura’s skin glows, but it’s the closest Keith can find to match. Her silvery hair curls down, loose and flowing freely with small jewels adding a shimmer. The gown sits just off her shoulders, a dazzling blue that ripples with tinges of purple as it catches the light. At the waist, it fans out like something from a fairytale. Even so, there’s a modesty about the dress. It’s not overdone or particularly dramatic, but it’s a perfect fit for Allura. There’s something magical about it, the way she looks tonight. And it has nothing to do with the real magic that thrums beneath her fingertips. No doubt she has the entire room spellbound, enchanted by her presence.

Keith opens his mouth, tries for words and falters. The Hallimide swirls around Allura, and the dress seeming to shift colour in the most mesmerising of ways. A peal of laughter escapes her lips, before the Hallimide moves off to brighten a corner that’s become suddenly too dark. Keith thinks the people huddled there aren’t going to be too happy about that. From here, he can see from their outlines they’re definitely _not_ talking.

Attention drifting back, he finds Allura is still standing there.

“You look nice,” Keith finally says. It hangs awkward between them, somehow meagre despite it being genuine.

“Thank you,” tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, Allura gives a small smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes, which is curious. Out of everybody, Allura had put the most into this evening. The strange vacancy in her expression makes no sense. Nor does the question she asks when she steps closer. “Are you alright, Keith? I’ve noticed you haven’t moved from this spot all night.”

“I’m fine,” Keith manages, absently tracing patterns into the table. Beside him, the wolf huffs like a traitor. That’s not true and Allura of all people knows he’s a horrible liar. He continues determinedly, before she can call him up on that. “Just… it’s not really my scene, is all.”

The suit is more restrictive now he’s here amongst all these people. His hands are clammy, and each time someone who isn’t a paladin or Shiro comes over to the table dread seizes him tight. Given the live band and dancing, not many had endeavoured to make it his way. Keith had been smart about where he sat, positioning himself behind the sea of dancers.

Apparently, that hadn’t fazed Allura. Of course it wouldn’t. Raising an accusing eyebrow, she narrows her eyes.

“You know, as the leader of Voltron, you cannot simply avoid the dancefloor and our guests all evening.”

The thought of having to dance and discuss diplomacy with people in the room is overwhelming. This isn’t just a celebration of earth’s triumph, this night is marks a shift in the future of their universe. Leaders from all across the galaxy have come here, to forge ties and in some cases make demands from the alliance. Nothing official, of course. But Keith catches the signs of politics everywhere, the small jibes that have other parties biting their tongue, the suggestions that have no place in conversation, the way people are systematically sought out and proverbially back into a corner.

Keith is good at fighting. In the past, he’s also been pretty good at blending into the wall and letting things run their course around him. Smalltalk is agonising, something Keith is sure nobody even wants to do anyway. Getting to the point, spitting out the truth tucked carefully between elaborately decorated words, just makes more sense. And because he feels it, the burning on his pointed silver tongue, Keith withdraws. He trusts himself enough to lead his team, to make the right choices in the heat of battle.

Diplomacy is different, a difficult thing that is so very foreign to him. In contrast, Allura seems to find it as easy as breathing. She is destined to unify all the stars, Keith to rattle and shake them alive. Her very presence exudes authority, and demands the utmost respect. Even without the tiara, Allura holds herself with poise and grace. It’s admirable, really. She has the ability to command the attention of a room, hold them by eloquent words and a touch of idealism that can be irresistible to entertain in the face of such cataclysmic destruction.

“I-... I don’t really - I mean it’s, uh probably best I...” Keith trails off, words evading him in the most unbecoming of ways.

“Kosmo,” leaning down, Allura pats the fur on the wolf’s head. His wolf makes a small noise of approval, leaning into her hand. “Might I borrow Keith for a moment?”

Keith isn’t sure he needs his wolf to speak for him, but Kosmo bows his head as if nodding. Then promptly zaps to the other side of the hall to Shiro’s side like the traitorous traitor he is.

“I’d say that counts as a yes!” A wry smile tugging on Allura’s lips, her hand outstretched towards Keith.

It’s almost mischievous, the way she beckons him to his feet with a wiggle of her fingers, somehow still dainty and elegant. But Keith knows Allura better than that, there’s the firm stubborn rise of her chin that tells him this is a request he would be foolish to refuse. There’s no way out of this one. He stands reluctantly, takes her hand and that seals an unspoken deal between them.  
  
Before he can truly process what’s happening, she’s steering them to the centre of the room. People part around them rather than having to squeeze through, a little too dramatically for Keith’s liking. He doesn’t enjoy being put on a pedestal, or treated any differently. Allura guides his hands to where they’re supposed to be for the dance. One sits on her waist, the other still clasping her hand.

“Look, Allura,” a glance around confirms they’re gaining some attention. Griffin looks like he’s waiting to see if Keith will trip over his feet, eyes a fraction too considering. Shiro is practically beaming with pride and affection for Keith, and he’s hardly hesitant to declare it. Really, the last thing Keith wants to do is embarrass himself and Allura. The music is slow, unlike his racing pulse. “I… don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to lead.”

“If I recall correctly, there was also a time where you had never led Voltron before either,” she responds, ever sharp and capable of talking him down or matching him. Keith’s surprised to find her feet smacking into his first as they move. Unfazed, Allura nudges them into a slow gentle sway. It’s not quite as graceful as Keith expected it to be, which is somewhat reassuring. Maybe, just maybe, she’s out of her depth too. “But one thing I have noticed, Keith, is that you adapt remarkably fast. It’s most impressive.”

“Not always,” Keith admits with an uneasy breathless laugh.

Leading Voltron for the first time had hardly been smooth-sailing, or even remotely successful. Some parts had been, admittedly, a disaster. But that’s a time too steeped in grief and remorse to look back on without pieces of himself splintering into fragments he can’t quite put back together. It’s not something he can do here, or possibly ever again. Taking his cue, Keith mimics the couple beside them and spins Allura out. Her dress ripples elegantly around her. He pulls her back with a little too much force, but Allura gives no sign of noticing.

“Not like you,” he elaborates, hoping this subject will keep them from venturing back. “Your entire world got destroyed and the first thing you did when you woke up is continue the mission. Voltron wouldn’t even be possible if you didn’t believe in us as paladins.”

The words seem to surprise Allura, a nostalgic smile curving over her mouth.

“I admit, I wasn’t entirely convinced at the start. You were all rather...”

“Hopeless?” Keith supplies, lips twitching. He recalls their early days of training, the blunders none of them would ever dream of making now. Allura doesn’t laugh, her expression hardening. It’s alarming, how quickly the tone shifts. Keith sucks in his lip, bites down hard. He’s made a mistake, said something he shouldn’t have. His grip on her hand loosens, excuses to leave forming on his tongue. But Allura squeezes firmly, never giving him that chance to escape.

“No,” she finally says. Keith isn’t sure whether she’s telling him to stay, or disagreeing with him. But as Allura looks up, Keith sees the moisture glistening in her eyes between each blink. “Never hopeless, Keith. The hope I felt when I saw you all, the hope you continue to bring me sometimes extends beyond anything else. And now we are so close to finishing my father’s work in restoring peace to the universe, I feel it even more.”

Ducking her head, Allura clears her throat. Keith doesn’t miss the way her voice trembles, how each word barely hangs together. The hand in his is shaking, cause for Keith to rub a gentle with his thumb across her knuckles. Allura strives to be a pillar of strength, a mountain that never bows or crumbles. Keith is no stranger to how daunting vulnerability can be, of how emotions can unravel and bare your soul in the most intimate of ways. It’s hard to let go of holding back, keep things tucked inside. But the pressure of doing so is bound to burst one day, go supernova. So perhaps slowly lowering walls isn’t completely a bad thing.

“I'm sorry,” she murmurs.

“Why?” Keith asks, both bemused and concerned. The apology makes no sense. Blinking back tears, Allura bites down on her lip hard. They’re in the middle of a crowded room, the music is flourishing around them in a way that strikes all the wrong notes for this conversation. There’s nowhere to hide but in plain sight.

“Hey,” he says, voice hushed and low. “I’m uh, not the best at this, but-.... if you need a shoulder or something like that I - I guess you could use m-”

Before that sentence finishes, Allura leans closer. Keith lets go of her hand, tentatively slinging an arm around her in the most comforting way he can manage. They’ve always been a little stilted at hugging, it’s bordering awkward now they’re swaying out of time with it too. But it’s also nice. Keith can feel the tension in Allura’s spine wilting as he rubs her back.

“He would be proud of you.”

The name Alfor withers on his lips, doesn’t quite come out. After all this time, he isn’t sure whether he should speak it, or dare to. It feels forbidden, almost. The last time they’d spoken of Alfor he had hardly been kind or fair. The echoes of that still stings, sometimes. It does now, with Alfor’s daughter confiding in him as a leader and a friend. Allura lifts her head, taking a step back to widen the distance between them. It shouldn’t be so alarming, leave such an ache in his chest. But the fact Allura seems surprised by the words tells him all he needs to know. It implores Keith to lean himself a little further over the ledge this conversation is balancing on.

“Listen, Allura. When we were floating in space, I- I said some... things about your father. And you.”

Keith winces, noting Allura’s growing shift in disposition. Suddenly, it’s as if she’s dancing with a stranger and is losing interest. “It was unfair, and I didn’t really mean them, I was just-…”

A sigh drags from his lips, hard and heavy. This isn’t the right way to go about it, nor the right place. But now they’re here, he has to try. So he does try again, sharp panic rising when Allura looks away. He’s losing her. Funny how someone can feel so far away when they’re right beside you, how lonely a crowded room can feel.

“It’s not an excuse that I was scared and we were close to losing our minds. I still said it, and I can’t take those words back or pretend it never happened. I want to apologise.”

“I understand.” The smile that Allura wears is too close to the one she musters in meetings. Formal, almost forced. It’s painful to see, knowing the way she smiled mere moments ago won’t return.

“You shouldn’t have to. It’s okay if you- if...” Keith frowns, unsure where he’s going with that sentence. He remembers the cold shoulder and frosty glances from after the trials of Marmora. They can’t go back there, but if they have to Keith won’t push. This time, it’s probably warranted.

“It was a distressing situation,” Allura parts with after a moment but it doesn’t sound quite like acceptance. “We _all_ said terrible things and we were all scared for our lives, Keith.”

“But I wasn’t scared about that!” he admits, confidence restoring because he has to set this right. He doesn’t realise his voice has jumped up in volume or pitch desperately until a few of the couples dancing closeby stare openly. Allura waits, pivoting them into an average waltz as the music changes. Meeting her eyes, Keith holds her gaze.

“Saying goodbye to my mum, it - some things came back to me, I guess. I should’ve been ready for it, but I wasn’t.”

The shame rises up inside him, searing itself into his bones. Two years in the quantum abyss had answered so many questions, awakened so much within him that once laid dormant and deliberately untouched. But not all demons can be vanquished, not completely. Love prevails, it restores and grows beautiful new foundations. That doesn’t mean it erases or eradicates the things that came before - and it shouldn’t.  
  
Love isn’t destructive, it’s constructive. Abandonment, the crushing fear of it that has tormented him for a lifetime, sometimes sweeps in without warning. And there in space, in the middle of nowhere with a team he couldn’t save, it had been too much.

Once the words start, Keith finds it difficult to stop. It all spirals out chaotically, too fast to stop. Conviction lessens, his eyes favouring the floor.

“Shiro wasn’t there, I - I didn’t know if he was okay. Then Hunk, Hunk started talking about leaving Voltron and quitting the team and everything was falling apart and I - I started thinking that maybe Hunk was right because one day we -” pause. Keith presses his eyes shut, takes a shaky wet breath that presses down on something he can’t let slip. “One day this will be over, and I… I’m not ready for everyone to leave.”  

_I’m not ready to be alone again._

“I see...” Allura breathes, considering him carefully for a moment. She shifts their hold, lacing their fingers together. It’s simultaneously grounding and overpowering. “Much like myself, you have lost family before.”

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs, throat tight in all the worst places. If he’s not careful, that terrible sound in his throat will spill over him and break more than just his rasping voice. “My Dad-”

“-Would be as proud of you as we all are I’m sure,” Allura finishes succinctly. There’s an empathetic look in her eyes, hovering in such a way Keith can ignore it if he wants to. Keith realises then what she’s doing, and he’s grateful for the tactful evasion. Allura’s hold over words is powerful, incredible really. In seconds, she has reduced a supermassive storm into a passing cloud. Keith nods weakly, unsure how to proceed. His composure is unravelling, with nowhere for him to go but down.

Before he plummets, before he reaches that darkness, hands cup his face with such tenderness he almost trembles. Allura chases his eyes, smiling with such earnest pride it has him gasping.

“We aren’t merely a team, we are a family. And I assure you, we will never leave you.” Her thumb strokes soothingly down the side of his face, and Keith melts a little into the touch. “There is no telling what our futures hold. Though even if our paths may disperse, our lives are bound together. We will always find each other,” her hands move down to his chest, pressing at the spot between his ribs. It’s bruising, and it shouldn’t be. “But no matter where we go, you can _always_ find us here.”

It’s in this moment Keith feels it stretching between them, the profound bond that has slipped under their skin.  Born not just from Voltron but the experiences they’ve shared. All the anguish, the laughter, the good and bad times. It’s something they all carry with them, and always will. That holds them together, tethers them. Their story is universal, maybe something that will be told for generations to come, but the things burrowed there is private. It belongs to only them.

“We should probably… move.” Keith clears his throat, watching others weave seamlessly around them. He’s not sure when they stopped moving, but the song has changed once more. Allura smoothly falls back into position, guiding them. As they sway it doesn’t take long for their feet to smush together again. Keith grins at that, the air around lifts a fraction.

“No offence Princess, but I thought you’d be good at this.”

Allura gives a sheepish smile. “I never particularly enjoyed dancing on Altea, though perhaps that was more because of my partners...”

“Well. Sorry I’m not much better.”

A whimsical laugh escapes her lips as Keith spins her more clumsily than planned. “I’m pleased we can learn this together.”

Keith bites down a smile as Allura attempts to make something graceful of it, but it’s beyond saving. As she turns back, there’s delight painted all over her face. Keith doesn’t trust it for a second, it’s the same look she gets when getting excited about the space mice’s shows, or shopping for something sparkly. It’s never been directed at him before.

“Perhaps I should spin _you_ now?”

From there, they slip into comfortable quiet. Now focusing on the dance, their fumbling is transformed to something far more distinguished. They pick the moves up with better fluency, adapting them to suit their own rhythm. Keith never expected it to be so relaxing, or fun, but his feet can’t seem to stop moving. He gets a little overconfident, trying a more elaborate spin which leads to Allura almost crashing into the couple beside them.

“Please, don’t do that again,” she says, sternness lost behind the smile. Keith soon realises her eyes aren’t on him, they’re drifting off to the side.

Craning his neck curiously, Keith catches sight of Lance across the dance floor. To say Lance is sulking in the corner would be an understatement. His arms are folded across his chest, head hanging low and there’s an air of strange insecurity on his shoulders that makes them sag. It doesn’t come from places it used to, it’s new and unfamiliar. Keith doesn’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of them, but he’s not an idiot. And whilst dancing with Allura has been lovely, there’s something there that’s flourished over time he feels compelled to coax into blooming. Maybe they need a bit of help.

Consider it a mission, of sorts.

Keith cocks his head with as much subtlety as he can which admittedly, isn’t much. Lance looks at him, red cheeks visible even from this distance at Keith’s insinuation. Repeating the gesture, Keith fixes Lance a glare. If he has to somehow get Kosmo involved, then he will. To his relief, Pidge gives Lance a shove, propelling him in their direction.

With a knowing smile he can barely contain, Keith steps out of Allura’s orbit. She tilts her head, confused and awaiting an explanation.

“I’d say we’ve picked it up pretty well. You ready for the real thing?”

As Lance approaches, her eyes widen a little. She’s been yearning for this, the way her posture straightens and her eyes glisten reveals that much. Keith isn’t quite sure where to put himself now the three of them are standing in the middle of the ballroom. But as he takes a step back, Lance tugs on his sleeve in a way that’s truly touching, as if he wants him to stay for this. Or maybe he just needs the moral support. Keith can hardly deny his right-hand man that much.

“Allura, I was wondering… do you want to me with dance? I mean, dance with me?” Lance begins, fumbling in a way Keith has rarely seen before. He could poke fun, because ‘me with dance’ is something he will ensure to never let Lance live down for all eternity. Later, not now. Instead, he watches them quietly. Honestly, it’s sweet. Fierce affection swells in him as Allura shyly takes Lance’s hand.

His chest fills with something light and warm at the sight. Pidge and Hunk are high-fiving in the corner cheering a little louder than necessary, Coran twiddling his moustache. Shiro meets his eyes across the room, they share a playful look as he walks over. Pressing a hand to the spot between his ribs, Keith realises Allura is right. It’s all here, and there’s so much here inside him it barely fits.

They’re not going anywhere.

Of course they’re not.


End file.
